


Observations

by ThusWithAKissIDie



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: character study of some sort?, dont expect anything coherent in here its more stream of conciousness than anything else, this is a mess but a nice one, this is a seb in green celebration zone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26392279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThusWithAKissIDie/pseuds/ThusWithAKissIDie
Summary: While watching Q2 in Monza, Seb thinks about his future.(seb seems to have said that he decided to stay after Monza qualy and i ran with it)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	Observations

**Author's Note:**

> this is an unedited stream of consciousness mess the gc made me write after reading that seb apparently decided to stay in f1 after the disaster that was Monza qualifying.
> 
> As said before, this is an unedited trainwreck and i am very emotional but yeah have fun i guess
> 
> To my grid girls sorry for bulmtinf you with seb thoughts i love you

"Didn't hit the apex.", Seb says, to no one in particular. The cameraman is filming him, and no doubt there will be videos and jokes on the internet by the time qualifying is over.

He isn't sure if he hit that apex either, or any apex, literal or figurative, in the last few months.

Not getting out of Q1 is like a kick in the face, especially when he knows he could've done Q2 easily.

Which is another sad joke. Happy for getting into Q2. He'd joked about it with George last week, how they were racing at the wrong end of the grid.

George's time would come, and so would that of all the other guys, kids, really, who currently were fighting for midfield places.

Seb remembers his first races, the elation, the happiness for a points finish, the sheer joy of his first pole and win, on the same ground where he's starting in the second to last row now.

It feels cruel, he'd felt treated cruelly when he got out the car - _Lucilla_ , - he chuckles, _graceful light_ (the only light she will bring him to is that at the end of the tunnel, that death trap on four wheels). As if.

He didn't really know where to go, just wanted to get away from all the red around him, the still-bleeding cuts the sexy redhead who he fell for left on his body after she robbed him of his dignity, his drive, the childlike wonder every time he touched the chassis (, _his hair_ ).

He fell for the pretty con artist and even though she took what was his and kicked him out, a part of him still loves her. 

Getting on his bike is a second nature to him. It used to be different, instead of riding away in shame he used to climb podiums and uncomfortable interview barstools but now his bike feels more like an extension of himself than this year's car ever did. 

Seb doesn't know what made him stand on the platform, watching the cars go by.

The tv presenters who watched him leave said he'd probably gone to the park, and that was where he was headed but somehow the paddock exit had grown taller and taller with every step in the pedals, more imposing than he'd ever seen it before.

Leaving through there somehow seemed final. 

It's not lost on him how cinematic that moment was, him, alone on his bike, standing in front of a decision, a way out, the thing people expect, what everyone would do, or the other way.

Some might call him masochistic, he thinks.

For choosing to watch the others go by while he's standing there, forced to watch. Forcing himself to watch.

But he watches. The way they go past, again and again.

Out of the car, it's fewer times they come past him than it feels when he's inside. 

Twenty cars is not that much. It feels like an insurmountable task to overtake nineteen others, sixteen in his case, but in the grand scheme of it all, twenty is nothing. He's five percent of the grid.

Sometimes, when he's frustrated and angry and has to pinch the bridge of his nose to stop angry tears from falling, it's easy to forget.

That there's kids who would kill to be in his place, in his shoes.

He's so privileged to be here, they all are. Every single one of them, they all fought hard to get where they are, they all made sacrifices, they all lost things and people along the way.

Over the last weeks and months he's asked himself if all this was worth it in the end, if an hour and a half of adrenaline on a sunday weigh up everything he's missed out on.

Those thoughts never stay for long.

Seb looks down at his hands sometimes, hands that held so many trophies, shook so many bottles of champagne.

He loves working with his hands, feeling grounded, knowing that each movement of his fingers makes something happen, that he is in control.

Lewis goes past him, nothing more than a black-silver-red flash and Seb stops himself from tangling himself up in his own thoughts.

It's louder than he thought, standing up here. His airpods don't help much.

Somehow the sound makes it seem more real, what they're doing. It's always strange, doing something so few people can even imagine the feeling of.

It really is something special, Seb thinks as he sees his colleagues making their rounds.

Colleagues isn't really the right word to describe them. Even if they talk two sentences in a full season, they share the same experiences, feel the same highs and lows, walk over the same asphalt.

They share the passion, the drive. And while he's looking down at them, seeing the tiny mistakes they make, the things he would do differently, the things he would do the same, while his mind easily slips back into registering and analyzing everything that's happening, Sebastian feels something flutter in his chest that he tought he lost somewhere in a red garage.

"Didn't hit the apex." Seb says, and it's meant for no one in particular, just as a reminder to himself.

For the next time he qualifies in Monza. 

**Author's Note:**

> want me to Stop? Comment why or tell me on tumblr (@formula-whine).
> 
> want me to Continue? Do the same and/or leave some kudos <3
> 
> thats all thanks for coming with me on a mental breakdown journey courtesy of seb vettel xoxo


End file.
